


just friends

by miserableroses



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, Drinking, Gay, Losers club - Freeform, Lovers, M/M, No Smut, Parties, Reddie, Short, Slow Burn, Stozier, Taylor Swift - Freeform, friends - Freeform, teen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:41:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21913834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miserableroses/pseuds/miserableroses
Summary: “we’re just friends.” there that word was again. just friends. richie practically wants to scream hearing those words said from his mouth. he wants tear every piece of his hair from his head, he wants to punch the fucking wall till his fist bleed.richie dryly chuckles, stepping back from eddie. he doesn’t find humor in the situation, what he finds funny is how stupid he could be for thinking eddie actually wanted the same thing he had spent the last few years pushing away.‘just friends’or where eddie can’t seem to open up to richie but richie always is letting him inside his window at night or vice versa.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris, Reddie - Relationship, Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak - Relationship, richie/eddie
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	1. just friends

**Author's Note:**

> please enjoy this i will be working on a playlist for this that will be linked next chapter.

the soft glow of the tv paints richie in a blue hue, his eyes continue to stray anywhere but the boy pressed into his side. on occasions richie can feel eddie moving closer, the fabric of his soft sweater causing the pits of richie’s stomach to open, the match dangerously dangles ready to start a fire. but richie refuses to let that happen, each time it does happen he’s quick to blow out the match, gnawing at his bottom lip as he moves away from eddie. 

he wants to keep touching him, feeling his skin brush against his, but the more he allows himself to touch him the harder it would be to heal the burns on his skin from the scorching out touch of eddie kaspbrak’s. he wants to feel his skin, feel the pulse of his heart beat. but he can’t do that. just friends. just friends. he repeats those same words over and over again to himself. but they seem to hold no true meaning they were just words. richie desperately wants to cross that line, closing the gap between just friends. but the thought of doing that, the thought of risking it all makes him fill with worry. he’s filled with so much worry he was positive he was going to be sick from the continuous knots tying themselves in his stomach. 

it always crosses richie’s mind, the thought of bridging the gap between being just friends with eddie. he wants to kiss him, so desperately. but as quick as that thought occurs he’s fast to shove it far far away and never think about it again. or until he’s alone. which he tends to think about a lot. he thinks about it so much his dreams start to become filled with eddie. eddie kissing him. touching him. lips beautifully painted together. the soft sound of richie’s name being let out in short gasps. richie thinks he’s going mad, it’s not everyday you have dreams of making out with your best friend. 

what richie doesn’t know is the thoughts buzz through eddie’s mind, it’s loud. so loud he tries to silence the thoughts using the same words he’s said a million times. it was hopeless, blood fills his ears as his heart pounds loudly in his chest. 

just friends. the words become a cold whisper, each syllable no longer holding as much of a punch. just friends. the repetition of the words play on loop. every time it’s just richieandeddie the words just friends start to come a constant. just friends who share secret glances at the other. just friends who desperately crave the touch and warmth of the other. just friends. just friends. just friends. frankly they both were growing sick of that word. sick of dancing around. but they wouldn’t allow themselves to bridge the gap between those words. 

richie could go for a cigarette right about now, but he doesn’t want to leave eddie alone in his room. he wants to stay here. stay with eddie and feel the warmth of his body pool into his stomach like a fresh summer's breeze. he wants to stay. but he knows if he does he’ll do something stupid. Richie has a tendency to do shit like that. or well say shit he doesn’t always mean. it’s almost a reflex, his mouth having a mind of its own, spewing out the dumbest shit. 

sitting up, richie drapes his legs over the bed, his actions make eddie look towards him. richie’s teaching for the pack of cigarettes that sit on his nightstand. eddie doesn’t bother asking where he’s going, he figures he’s going out for a smoke. as much as eddie likes to scold him about smoking those things right now eddie can’t help but trap those words. he wants to tell richie those things are gonna kill him, but he’s said that enough. he knows richie won’t listen. 

“i’ll be back.” the unlit cigarette bops between his lips. he grabs the lighter from his desks, slips on his shoes and makes his way towards the door. 

the second richie’s gone is when he finally is able to allow air to fill his lungs. he never can breathe when he’s around eddie. no matter what eddie does he always seems to suck the air from richie’s lungs, worming his away around him until it’s uncomfortable. but richie didn’t mind, he never minded. 

the word just friends dances on the tips of richie’s tongue. it’s a bitter taste, but it’s something he needs to face. he’ll never have the courage to bridge the gap. they’ll just keep up this dance of avoiding their feelings until one of them explode. it was bound to happen soon. one of them would close that agonizingly slow forming gap. richie hopes it was eddie to that though. 

wrapping his arms around himself, richie lights the end of the cigarette. he shivers but doesn’t bother going inside to grab his jacket. he needs to think, and it was difficult to do that around eddie. richie’s brain always seems to short circuit around him, his bones rattling with anxiety. he was always scared about saying the wrong thing to eddie, scared he’d say something stupid which he always does anways. richie contemplated buying a filter for his mouth to filter out the bullshit he tends to spew. 

a tension wavers between richie and eddie nowadays that richie thinks about it. each time it was just richie and eddie together that pit of fire was starting to swallow richie whole, scorching him. recently he’s been trying to keep the fire at bay, pushing away the urge to allow it to consume him. he can’t do that. he doesn’t know if he’ll come out alive if he allows himself to get burned by the fire. so each time the match dangles over the gasoline he’s quick to blow it out. stop feeling this way, it’s stupid. 

the record stuck on loop and has been for the last couple days richie and eddie had hung out alone. just friends. just friends. just friends. richie surely was starting to hate that word just friends. 

________________

eddie doesn’t spend the night at richie’s house anymore. he’s always busy. busy. richie knows that was not the case but he allows it. 

‘sorry, i’m helping my mom.’ ‘i can’t spend the night, i have a project to finish.’ ‘got homework to do.’ 

excuse after excuse was made. richie tries not to be hurt. but it’s pretty damn obvious eddie was ignoring him. 

beverly is first to notice, asking richie one evening they snuck out to catch a smoke. richie doesn’t know what to tell her, because he himself had no clue why eddie was avoiding him like the plague. richie doesn’t recall saying anything to upset eddie so it definitely wasn’t his trash for a mouth. 

“i’m sure it’s probably sonia, you know how she gets.” yes richie does know how she gets unfortunately. many nights after eddie spent fighting with his mother he sneaks into richie’s bedroom, crying into his shoulder. they never speak about the fighting, richie comforts him, whispering softly into his waves of curly hair that tickle his chin. 

richie swipes his cigarette butt against the building. recently he has been smoking more. his nerves were a constant which meant he tended to smoke more than he normally liked. 

chewing at his chapped lips he scuffs his boot against the ground. “yeah you’re probably right.” his lips turn down into a frown, shaking his head. he didn’t want beverly to be right. richie hates the way sonia treats eddie. he hates seeing eddie cry. he hates feeling helpless.

that night while he was laying flat on his back staring up at the ceiling he hears the rustling of bushes, loud whispers of curses and rapping at his bedroom window that he normally kept unlocked for eddie to sneak into. he thought there would be no point in keeping it unlocked tonight. but when he sits up in bed he spots eddie perched up on the ledge of the roof, latching onto the windowsill for dear life. 

scrambling from his bed, richie trips over a shoe nearly face planting onto the floor. he can see eddie trying not to laugh at this. 

unlocking the window he perches it open, biting his lip as he watches eddie’s small body climb through. he can hear eddie mutter every curse word known as he falls into the room. richie chuckles, making his way towards his bed. 

“you never lock the window.” eddie mumbles he still was laying on the floor, much his disgust for the boy’s messy floor he couldn’t bear the energy in himself to move. he just lays there, arms flat on the dirty carpet, his sweater riding up slightly. 

richie can’t help but notice the blotchy red patches that sit under eddie's cheeks. his eyes were bloodshot. richie knows for a fact eddie has been crying before he arrived. he wonders what or who upset him. but he seems to trap that question, biting his tongue. eddie never liked to talk about what made him upset. richie wishes he would talk to him, if only richie had the courage to ask him. 

soft sobs echo around the room, eddie buries his head into his arm, trying to hide he was crying. 

“c’mere.” richie sits up, arms open wide, he makes grabby hands for eddie to come towards. eddie is hesitant to get up, but he does, sulking over to the opposite side of richie’s bed where he sat. no words needed to be said, eddie crawls into richie’s arms, worming himself in between his legs. richie wraps his arms protectively around eddie’s middle, pulling his body as close to him as he could get. they flush together eddie’s body radiating a warmth that wraps richie in a blanket. 

wet patches of eddie’s tears soak richie’s shoulder, but he didn’t care, he squeezes eddie tighter to his body, humming softly to him. 

this was the only time richie didn't care about crossing that line between being just friends. he would walk to the ends of the earth and back if eddie asked him to just to see the boy smile. he despised anyone who dared make his smile flatter and gysters spring from his beautiful bourbon colored eyes. they don’t deserve his tears. 

richie was notorious for not being able to be serious during serious situations. but with eddie he knows that it upsets him more. but he also knows eddie likes the shitty jokes richie tells him even if he tries to stifle a laugh he likes them. so that’s how richie calms him, he whispers the dumbest jokes he can think of until he hears eddie let a laugh or smack his shoulder for a joke that made absolutely no sense. eds what do you call a spaghetti but drop the hetti? a spaghomo. that joke makes eddie laugh. score! richie thinks running his fingers through eddie’s hair. when he knows eddie’s not paying attention he softly kisses his forehead. eddie was paying attention. 

eddie mumbles a soft ‘sorry’ into richie’s shoulder, his breath fanning out against richie’s neck. richie tries to not think about how the match was starting to ignite some of the gasoline slowly. he needs to think fast before his entire body is ablaze. god kaspbrak, you really are trying to kill me. 

when eddie lets out a yawn richie moves away from him, tangling his fingers through his knotted hair, he normally keeps it brushed and nearly combed with gel but recently richie can tell he stopped bothering to brush his hair. a sign something was obviously bothering him he always cared about his hair, no matter how dumb that sounds he cared. eddie moves into his touch, humming a sigh of contentment. 

he wants to kiss eddie right now, kiss his lips raw until both of them are left with bruises. shaking that thought away he continues to run his fingers through eddie’s hair until most of the knots were combed out. the knots in his stomach tied tighter every time he hears eddie mumble incoherent words. 

just friends. just friends. 

the word plays like a record again. they had been silent for a while but the broken record was a tune now, singing that same song. just friends. 

god did richie wish they were more than just friends.


	2. feel something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> link to da playlist [ sorry it took so looong to update but i’m BACK and would like your feedback. :)](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1fqz9fYOzQCnWaecJaNIV2?si=ipc90p1-QWa8q_nsZ83vXQ</a)
> 
> (playlist is not in order of chapters)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> link to da playlist

nothing but a whisper of hello’s pass between richie and eddie. now richie was sure eddie was avoiding him. weeks seem to pass between them, but in actuality only days have gone by. richie wonders what he might’ve done to cause eddie to distance himself from him. 

sitting with his back against the wall, bill passed glances at him, legs tucked between his arms. bill had invited richie over. bill notices, he feels the creeping silence wiggling it’s way between richie and eddie. never once did that beat of silence follow between them, it’s always filled with richie and eddie. recently what follows is radio silence, a static of noise echoing behind them. 

the night eddie spent crying into richie arms plays on loop. he can feel his shallow breath hitting his neck, his tears soaking his shirt. he wants nothing more but to hold eddie again. but then he remembers if he does that again the pits of fire would swallow him up, igniting him in flames. he’s desperate to keep the dangling match far away from the gasoline. eddie was the match, always testing him to cave and allow him to drop it. he couldn’t do that. 

richie can see bill’s lips move, but he wasn’t paying attention. he never could pay attention. 

“stop thinking of the worst case scenario.” bill just like beverly always knew when richie was quiet he was thinking. over thinking that is. he allows the doubts of worry to seep through the cracks, filling him up with worry that only seems to grow and grow. he should just stop thinking, but it’s very easy to get stuck in your own head and allow all those worrying doubts to consume you. 

richie huffs, laying his head back against the wall. “i’m not.” he grumbles, gruffly running a hand through his hair. he tries to not think about how he had done the same with eddie. 

“haha very funny richie!” he wasn’t laughing, bill knew better than to believe richie, he could just tell by how quiet he was he was allowing those thoughts of doubt to consume him. and when he does allow them he comes up with so many things to try and make sense of the situation. which never ends well for him. “i know you’re worried about eddie, but trust me we all are.” which was true, richie wasn’t the only person eddie had been distant with. he seemed to be distancing himself from everyone. 

silence follows them, wrapping around them and sucking all the air out of the room. it was near deafening. but richie allows it to settle between them. 

after richie had left bill’s he made a detour for eddie’s street. he didn’t have a plan in mind but he found himself walking there. it’s too familiar. by now the streets were cloaked in darkness, illuminated by the yellow hue of the street lamps that shine off of windows. 

eddie likely was just getting ready for bed. richie was correct when he neared eddie’s backyard, slowly shutting the gate without a sound. god this is so creepy. richie chastised himself nearly turning back. 

richie grabs a pebble, this scene feels so familiar to him, almost like he tore it out of a book. yeah the book of memories he shared with eddie. over the years richie stopping by to throw rocks at eddie’s window was nothing but a constant. 

it takes four tries for richie to get his attention. when he does he just unlocks the window, not even bothering to look out or warn richie like he has in previous situations. richie knows something is wrong. he always knows when eddie isn’t himself. he’s known him long enough to know when something breaks off their routine something is wrong. 

maybe it’s me. or it’s his mom. 

he doesn’t want it to be either option though. 

they’re face to face finally when richie falls into the room. his chest fills with glass then shatters as he sees the glistening of fresh tears falling down his cheeks. richie’s up on his feet in a split second and eddie’s in his arms the next, sobbing softly. 

his chest hurts. burns in fact. he’s angry someone would cause him this much hurt. he wants to ask eddie what’s wrong but he doesn’t. 

eddie’s lips ghost over his chest as he chokes out a breath. richie tries to not think about it, pulling eddie closer. 

“shh, eds.” he chokes out running a hand down his arm. 

eddie coughs, and he coughs until he’s pulling away from richie grabbing for his inhaler that was placed on his desk. he pulls down on the trigger, sucking in a large breath. 

it’s silent again as they both stand in the middle of his room. richie looks around, it's still the same as before. nothing’s different. the only thing that seemed to be different in the room was the tension between the two. it’s bound to break at any point, richie just doesn’t know when it will and who will break it first. 

the inhaler in eddie’s hand falls against the bed along with him, he’s laying face down and if richie wasn’t certain he would’ve thought eddie was dead by the way he was laying. the only reason richie knows he’s not dead was the low hum of his muffled sobs that filled around the room. 

stuffing his hands into his pocket, richie sits on the edge of the bed farthest away from eddie who still hasn’t moved since he’s fallen into the bed. 

what’s wrong? richie feels the words creep up his throat scratching to get out and meet eddie’s ears but he doesn’t say them. he can’t because he’s known eddie long enough to know he’s not going to tell him. he’s always wanted to ask but eddie never would tell him. richie hates that he lets himself be eaten alive by his thoughts. richie hates that he can’t sliver away into his thoughts to take away some of the pain he’s feeling. he fucking hates it so much. 

eddie rolls over to his back, staring at the ceiling. there’s no more tears left in his body. he can’t cry. richie steals a look at him, his chest tightens. he’s used to seeing a spark behind those eyes, but there’s nothing. just pure emptiness. he’s numb. richie’s entire body goes cold, he feels the air get stuck between his throat a lump growing. don’t fucking cry, he’s going to be upset if you fucking cry. richie chastised himself, sucking in a breath. don’t fucking cry. at least not in front of eddie. 

he’s thinking of a joke to tell him, but each one he says earns him nothing but a ghost of silence. everything was sucked out of eddie, every last ounce of happiness he had was cried out, he couldn’t laugh. 

the more richie kept speaking the more annoyed he could see eddie was getting with him. so he stops zipping his lips tightly. something really bad must’ve had to happen for eddie not to want to hear richie’s shitty jokes and impressions. 

“what’s up dude?” richie questions rolling onto his side so he can see eddie properly. eddie’s not looking at him he just stares at his ceiling fan lips shut tight. 

eddie’s quiet. too quiet almost. it’s so quiet it almost makes richie’s ears ring at the absence of sound. 

“nothing it’s just my mom.” he hiccups sitting up fully. his back was pressed against the headboard as he stared down at richie. 

richie frowns sitting up, it’s second nature he guesses because his arms are now wrapped around eddie pulling him closer. there’s that feeling again. he pushes it away, tucking eddie under his arms. 

those words that have been silent for so long spring into action on a loop. justfriendsjustfriends. he keeps saying them as he feels eddie nozzle himself closer. he’s them when he notices how perfectly eddie fits in his arms. he says them when he feels eddie tighten his arms around him. he just keeps saying them until the words start to make him feel dizzy. 

it’s only when eddie’s this close to him he has to remind himself they’re just friends. he has to remind himself that nothing that’s happening between them means anything but friendship. 

he’s on fire now, the match meets the gasoline lighting richie’s entire body in flames. he’s burning. he can’t put the flame out, he’s not sure he wants to. which that single thought when it enters scares him. he’s desperately trying to blow out the flame but it just keeps growing, the blisters cover his skin. 

what the fuck am i going to do now?


End file.
